Four Times Donnie Got Hurt
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: . . . and one time he didn't. Four times Don received an injury, minor or major. And how he would recover from it.
1. Protector And The Protected

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its characters.

**I've noticed that in the 2003 cartoon series, Donatello get his fair share of injuries. So I decided to write about those hurts and revolve one of them around a certain turtle (or rat) in the same process. **

**There is a reason why these chapters won't have a complete ending as I wanted to focus more on the hurt rather than the recovery as indicted in the title. So hope you enjoy and review!**

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**Four Times Donnie Got Hurt****  
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**Chapter 1 –** Protector And The Protected

**(Raphael)**

I protected my brothers from a lot of things: Foot ninjas, aliens, the Shredder, the mob, killer robots, rampant mutants, assassins, the Purple Dragons, Bishop, mad scientists … and that's just naming a few. But out of all my brothers, I seemed to protect Donnie the most.

Donnie was the mild-mannered one. The one who loathed to fight. I couldn't remember how the rest of us used to tease Donnie for his pacifism and sympathy. He didn't train as hard as the rest of us, preferring to solve problems through voice and reason rather than force. He didn't have Mikey's energy, Leo's enthusiasm or my endurance. But what he lacked he made up for his brains.

The garbage we found in the sewers, in the garbage bins, in junkyards, wherever, Donnie had the remarkable ability to change it into weapons, vehicles and technology beyond our wildest dreams. His "toys" as he liked to call them, are spun by his fingers, woven together by intricate bolts, screws and metal. When I was a kid, I often imagined him as a wizard, able to make machines whirl to life, to dance and sing at his slight command to the melody he has chosen for them. With a wave of a hand, much like a conductor, he was able to breathe life into these cold, inanimate objects, to give them a soul to call their own.

How Don was able to do what he does, no one could really understand. Leo tried. Mikey guessed. I don't even bother. Then again, Donnie and I are too different to understand each other.

We are the middle brothers, neither the babies nor the adults of our little family. And we couldn't be any more opposite. Don was smart, gentle and kind. I was rash, headstrong and violent. We're like the sun and moon, night and day, clashing against one another, only appearing when the other is gone.

But without each other, we wouldn't be able to survive. He is the logic to my rage. I am the muscle to his plans.

Balance was crucial for us, all four of us, in order to survive. Otherwise, we would crumble to disaster and despair. Donnie is needed more than we – or he – realized. He stuck up for Mikey even though the idiot didn't deserve it. He relieved the pressures of leadership and responsibility from Leo, able to get Fearless to relax and clear his thoughts. He talked to me, calming the storm within me only with a soft smile.

I couldn't exactly say when I started becoming protective particularly over Donnie but I would have to say it was when we were younger, if he had a nightmare, Donnie would come to my bed. Not Leo's or Mikey's, but mine. He would stand at the foot of my bed, crying as silently as he could, staring pitifully at me with his watery eyes until I sighed and scooted over. He would snuggle close, tucked neatly underneath my chin, seeking the shelter and warmth of my arms. Before, during those times, I had wished just for once, he would go Mikey or Leo instead of me. Now that I'm older, I actually feel glad that Donnie chose me over Leo or Mikey.

His attackers liked to pick on him, to prey on the weak and helpless. But my brother wasn't weak or helpless at all. He might not be the strongest but he was one of the most resilient people I have ever known. No matter how many times he fell or failed, he managed to surprise us all. Maybe that's why I couldn't help but protect him. I wanted to protect that determination.

One day, after a particular nasty fight between me and Fearless, Master Splinter sent the two of us to cool off with the usual hand-to-hand training. Leo was paired with Mikey and I was with Don. I kept twirling my sai around and around my fingers, glaring at Leo, who determinedly didn't look my direction. When Master Splinter called me and Don to the floor, I stuffed my sai in my belt, forgetting I should have placed them down on the ground. I was so lost in my rage, I didn't realize that Don shot me a confused, almost wary look as we took our positions.

I charged first, one fist aiming from the weaker area of the plastron, my other fist preparing to hit if the first strike failed. Don dodged, leaping away, ducking from my sudden kick. His foot lashed out, attempting to trip me if I hadn't jumped the last second.

I imagined Leo replacing Don. A surprised face was swapped for an emotionless one. A bō for twin swords. Purple for blue.

Without faltering, my fist connected to his jaw, successfully knocking him over this time. He laid flat on the ground, wheezing and groaning. Grinning wildly, I looped around him, like a prowling beast ready to deliver the finishing blow to his prey. So old Fearless wasn't invincible after all. And I was going to beat him. Exhilaration pumped through me, leaving no room for thought as I rushed once more towards my objective, unconsciously flicking my weapons out, intent on hurting.

" Raph!"

Suddenly, I skidded to a stop, surprised to see another Leo suddenly in front of me, restraining my weapons from getting to where they were supposed to be going. Master Splinter and Mikey was kneeling beside "Leo", who remained on the ground. A nasty purple, blue bruise was forming, coloring his cheek where it had been punched.

Where it had been punched by me.

" What were you doing?" Leo's voice was harsh and I found myself casting my eyes down in order to evade his unrelenting gaze. " This was training, not a battle. No weapons. That was Master Splinter's one rule." His voice grows louder, more ruthless. My sai were in his hands. I didn't realize he took them from me.

I was still staring at the multicolored mass at my brother's cheek. Master Splinter gently inspected it and Don winced, shying away from the touch. I winced too. " Donnie, I - "

" It's all right," Don interrupted. He grimaced slightly as he stood, rubbing his cheek gingerly. " No real harm was done. It was more of my fault anyways. I guess I haven't been training enough."

At that moment, I really hated him. I wanted him to scream, curse and storm at me, to give me what I deserved. Heck, he could attack me right now and I wouldn't blame him for it. But he didn't. He was shrugging his injuries aside, acting as if it was nothing. He even took the blame of his injuries on himself and not me. His kindness towards me only made me feel more ashamed of my actions.

" Really Leo, I'm fine," Donnie was saying to our leader. " I'll just go get some ice." As he passed by me, he gave me a light punch on the arm. " Now, we're even," he cheekily said, completed with an even cheekier grin.

His punch was nothing compared to mine. His was weak, gentle even. Mine was thrown with cold intentions to hurt. Leo threw a glare in my direction before heading towards the kitchen. Mikey was being strangely quiet for once as he, too, followed Leo. Splinter was sternly lecturing me about control and how I would do ten flips for breaking the rule. But I didn't pay attention to any of that. All I was focused on was that bruise on Donnie's cheek that I had caused.

I protected my brothers, especially Donnie, from a lot of things. But there is one thing I cannot protect them from.

Myself.


	2. Dangerous Misunderstandings

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its characters.

**Here we go. The next chapter. Hope you will read and review this.  
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**Chapter 2 –** Dangerous Misunderstandings

**Michelangelo**

If we were in a different situation, I would have laughed. I would have grinned, smirked, joked about it and made sure Donnie would never escape from the humiliation of it.

Only if we weren't in this situation.

We were careless. We got caught and we were dragged in one of the few places that I dreaded going.

Stockman's laboratory.

I had seen plenty of horror movies and the such that a mad scientist would capture the main characters and cackle madly as they prepare the equipment to open and carve up the characters, as they struggled uselessly against their shackles. For nights, I had those nightmares where I was the main character being sliced up by some crazy madman. And now, I was living my nightmare.

Stockman rambled on about genetics, mutation, a great breakthrough in science - blah, blah, blah. I should have known that slimeball was up to something, with the way he kept eyeing Donnie the way he did. The others seemed to notice too. Leo inched closer to Donnie, almost shielding him from view. Ralph jerked his head a little higher and retorted loudly and more profanely than ever, to distract Stockman, to divert his attention for Don, though the scientist didn't seem to notice.

Finally, Stockman stopped his little tirade. There was a hungering look in his eyes that frightened me more than it did to Don. Like a snake watching and wondering the best means to toy and torment its prey before it struck. His greasy smile did nothing to help.

" You …" He breathed the single word, savoring it at the tip of his tongue. His eyes gleamed at Don behind his glasses in gleeful bliss. " I mean, you …" Stockman giggled, a high girlish sound that hurt the ears. " What an honour, what a pleasure, for me, Baxter Stockman, the world's greatest scientist, to be able to study and examine you. You of all people." He reached out, playfully patting Don at the cheek. " And no less, a female of your kind …"

We all gaped, simply dumbstruck. I've known Don for sixteen years of my life and I'm pretty sure my _brother_ (note the emphasis on the word "brother") ain't a girl. However, Stockman seemed to be convinced otherwise.

" And to think, I would have dissect all of you without a moment's hesitation," Stockman mused out loud before he chuckled to himself again, rubbing his hands eagerly. He reminded me of a greedy child, who was only given more candy. " Shame on me. I should have inspected your species more closely. Think of the possibilities. Breeding for one. I can imagine the opportunities right now. Nothing in history has been done like this and I shall be the first to see it ..."

" I'm afraid you're mistaken." Don's voice was surprisingly clear and steady as it rang about in the quiet laboratory. " There is specific and obvious evidence already proven that I am _not_ female. All you need is a sample and -"

A hand shot out, grabbing Donnie, jerking his head forward. Two metallic fingers pinched his cheeks, silencing him. " I'm the one who gets to call the shots," Stockman hissed in a low voice to Don. " Not you. Not anyone else."

I didn't understand. How could my brother be so closely related to this insane madman? Both were scientists, geniuses beyond our thinking. And yet, they were so different. Don would never hurt another living soul. Stockman was prepared to do anything for himself and the sake of his science.

Stockman clapped his hands, like he was our teacher and we were in class. " Enough chit-chat now. So much to do. And so little time. Shall we?"

The two guards jerked Don forward, dragging him away from our little soldier line, despite Leo and Raph's attempts to stop them, our pleads for them not to ignored. He turned around for a split second, fear mingling in his face before he disappeared behind the door and it snapped shut.

If only Stockman and his goons realized. The worse thing they could have possibly done to enrage three turtles was take away one of their brothers and lock them in a separate room. No more than five minutes later, several henchmen were down and the room was a war zone of dents and scratches.

Without our usual hacker to help us get out, we had to resort to other ideas. Raph was all for breaking down the door. Leo managed to dig through the unconscious bodies of the henchmen and found a walkie talkie. Quickly adopting a deep, growling voice, he snapped into the walkie talkie and demanded to the others to come in here and help them subdue the turtles.

Of course, they entered without a second thought.

After finishing the last of them, we sprinted into the long, endless hallways, running in our blind desperation to find Don and stop Stockman from doing any experiments to him. Rising fear and worry mounted. Every possible thought of what Stockman was doing to Don sent shivers down my shell and from the looks of it, Leo and Raph dreaded the exact same thing.

Each minute passing got us more frustrated and running into more dead ends and more henchmen who finally heard of our escape. Alarms blared out and rang in my ears. But I focused on nothing else. It was like one of my video games. How I had to find the treasure before the time limit.

And in a way, Don was my treasure.

Breathless and anxious, we found the slimy git in no other than in his hidden laboratory. He was shocked to see us, bending over a frightfully familar green figure, lying motionlessly on the table. With the unmistakable look of erupting wrath on his face, before Leo could say a word, Raph knocked the scientist away from the table and slammed him to the ground, as far and away from our brother.

He was unconscious, a gas mask pressing tightly against his face, covering his half-opened mouth. Breathing a little more easily, I was relieved until I saw what had slipped from Stockman's limp fingers.

It was a circular knife, looking sickeningly like a pizza cutter. And something that looked dangerously like _blood_ stained its edges and gleamed wickedly in the revealing light. That's when my eyes automatically drifted over to Don and the source of the crimson that laid innocently on the blade.

From almost his entire right side, from the underside of his arm, down to the frame of his plaston, was slitted and wrenched open. With a sickening horror, I realized that the moving thing I saw feebly jerking inside my brother was actually his heart, trying to pump blood and life to its owner, only to lose more as it emptied through the opening. Bile rose up my throat and nearly choked me as I retched, my whole body shaking and trembling like a leaf.

When I came back up, through watery eyes, I could see that Leo looked beyond horrified and even Raph looked more green than usual, as he approached Donnie, almost frightened to touch him, to even believe that he was still alive.

Rage overtook me. Part of me wanted to run to Donnie and the other part wanted to clobber Stockman right then and there for hurting my brother.

" Forget Stockman!" Leo yelled, snapping out of his daze and helping Raph cut at the leather bonds strapping Donnie to the table. Gently, very gently, he lifted Don onto his back, Don's body obeying lifelessly. I wanted to cover up that bloody incision, to look away and not feel nauseous. The faint _drip drip_ of blood - Donnie's blood – trickling to the clean floor, echoed loudly in my ears. Donnie moaned when Leo moved him and he impulsively curled up, shivering even more than me, even though he wasn't conscious. I couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of pain Don is going through. If we were a few minutes too late …

I wanted to grab Stockman, shove him up to the wall and beat him senseless. I had never felt more blind fury like this before. Raph was about to do what I was thinking of doing, until Leo stood in front of him, shaking his head. Leo's eyes were blazing in an unspeakable, cold fire, but when he spoke, he was utterly and terrifyingly calm.

" Not now. Don needs help. Now. We cannot delay."

Leo was right. Don and escape were our priorities right now. Retribution could come later. And when it did, they would all pay dearly.

Growling, Raph stopped and turned around. He gritted his teeth so hard, we could hear his teeth grinding together. But he left Stockman alone, brutally pounding anyone that got between him and the exit.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened to Don and how close he was to ... I didn't even want to think about it. I was this close to losing Don and it scared me more than I cared to admit. What would happen if he wasn't there anymore.

Donnie had always been my big brother. My protector. My comfort. My safety net. My shield.

My friend.

Only this time, I'm going to be all those things for him.


	3. A Father's Fate

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its characters.

**To change things a bit, I decided to write Spinter's view first, instead of Leo's. Don't worry! Leo's POV will be coming after this.  


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**Chapter 3 –** A Father's Fate

**Splinter**

I sat still. I've been sitting still for a long while now, deep in mediation. I knew of the battle that my sons are taking part in and the dangers that laid with it. From down in our home, I could hear the trembling, menacing rumbles and the faint, distant echoing of screams. I could only closed my eyes and pray that they didn't belong to my sons.

For many years now I had endured and quietly waited for my sons to return safe and sound. I hardly protested when they went on their adventures, far and away from me, leaving me alone in the lair. They were old enough to make their own decisions and to go where they pleased. I was their father, not their keeper. I would not force them to the confinements of our home if they chose not to.

But a father cannot help but worry for his sons.

Sometimes, they come back hurt, distracted and upset. Raphael would be furious and restless. Leonardo moody and shamed. Michelangelo loud and rowdy. Donatello quiet and reserved. They would keep their troubles for themselves and I would be left to try to figure out what happened.

Out of all his brothers, Donatello would be the one to come to me first. He was the most emotional out of his brothers, neither happy like Michelangelo, strict like Leonardo or angry like Raphael. He was essentially all of them and none of them.

I tended to fuss over Donatello more than his brothers sometimes. Leonardo was extraordinarily careful and cautious, while Michelangelo rebound too quickly to let any injury faze him. And Raphael could take care of himself. Not that Donatello wasn't careful or able to recover quickly or tough enough to handle what was thrown at him. It just seemed that trouble liked to follow him around like a lost child.

When he was younger, often he would get the most injuries, from exploring and investigating his lair to fiddling with any sort of metal he could get his tiny hands or to mixing chemicals with the kit he received for his birthday. Almost every day, I would be forced to take out the rolls of bandages and wrapped them gently over the burns or cuts.

And so, on this day, I waited. Head bowed, legs crossed, I waited, wishing and praying for the safety of my sons, deep in meditation to soothe my worries and fears.

But my state of serenity and composure was immediately broken by a sudden wave of terror and pain, followed by a cry for salvation.

_Master Splinter!_

I would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Donatello. My son, seeking reprieve from his anguish.

Even from our distance, I could feel his fear, his torment, his strain. Part of me was relieved to hear my son's voice, while the other part instinctively snapped the parental, protective side of me.

Quickly and calmly, I told him to relax. I opened my mind towards him and almost instantly, I was assaulted with images and screams, a white hot pain zapping through my mind, burning and searing anything it came across, each second I remained connected to my son. Horrified that this treatment was being done to my son, I merely concentrated harder, focusing all my strength and determination to release Donatello from this.

It might have been only a minute. It might have been hours. But I finally freed my son. There was a sigh of gratitude and Donatello was gone, no longer linked to me. Staggering, I fell back, inhalling deeply. The combination of the stress and trauma had left me weary and drained. I was able to breath in relief, knowing that my son was free from his torture.

But then, I was left wondering which fate would be crueler: not knowing my sons' condition, believing in a false hope that they were all right, or knowing that my sons were alive but hurt and scared.

It was something I didn't wish to know.


	4. Paper Cut

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its characters.

**And here's Leo's part! Four chapters down and one more to go!**

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**Chapter 4 –** Paper Cut

**Leonardo**

If I could use one word to describe Donnie, it would be compassion.

He was the gentlest person I had ever known, even more so than Master Splinter sometimes. I supposed it has to do with his appreciation with science and life. He had found assortments of critters in the sewers, from rats to cockroaches to spiders to ticks (much to Raph's dismay). He studied and examined them, then he set them free. He would never harm them. He fed, watered and sheltered these creatures, caring for them like they were his children. Even when he set them back into the sewers, I could sometimes catch a glimpse of his sad, face, knowing that he could no longer take care of his pets.

I remembered the first time he received his first cut from one of the jagged metal pieces he was examining. We all panicked seeing blood dripping for Don's finger, not having seen it before. Master Splinter gently washed the cut, dabbed some ointment on it and bandaged it, explaining to us what it was and that it was essentially what gave us life to survive.

He got bruises when he tests his inventions. He got burns when he welded metal to metal, building machines and creations of our wildest dreams. Seemingly almost wherever he went, Donnie got injuries, whether he wanted them or not.

And yet, he would be the first to fuss over us whenever one of us got injured, to ask "Are you guys all right?", to check up on us and bandage us and to make sure we were on our way to a speedy recovery. His word was final and if you dared argue with him, you would be at the mercy of the receiving end of his bō. In some ways, he was more of a mother than a brother sometimes.

There was something that my friend Usagi told me once. Something that I still remembered till this day.

" _You are fortunate, Leonardo-san," Usagi told me before we went their separate ways after the Nexus Championship. " Not many have brothers such as Donatello-san."_

" _Donnie?" I had repeated, slightly confused. " Yeah, I mean, Don does help a lot with his inventions and his brains saved us more than once."_

_The warrior shook his head. " That is not what I meant." He paused. " Donatello-san stayed with you during the time you were unconscious. Not once would he leave your side. Even when I tried to help, he refused to let me, out of fear that I, as your previous enemy, would do something harmful to you._"

_I blinked, taken back. For once, I didn't know what to say. But Usagi understood. He simply clasped my hand. " Take care of him," he said." As he had taken care of you."_

_Nodding my head, I squeezed his hand._ _" No need to tell me," I smiled. " I already know."_

I had knew that Don could be a mother hen when it came down to his brothers. But to hear it in words, from another person, truly made an impact.

He explained, taught and sighed. Sometimes, I believed he's frustrated that none of us could value and appreciate what was going through his mind, those calculations, those formulas that he was able to call upon with ease.

He rarely got angry. And even if he did get angry, the next moment he is calm and stoic again. There was one time I saw Donnie get angry. Shredder had held Mikey by the throat, threatening to gut him unless they dropped their weapons. Don didn't fly into a rage, spitting, cursing and screaming. He merely stood there with the coldest, most terrifying expression on his face that I had now identified as hate. His eyes burned of fury and helplessness, his fists clenched tightly around his bō so hard that it trembled violently. It wasn't until I touched his shoulder did he relax slightly and released his weapon with much reluctance.

He was the quiet one with his silent and stubborn need to be strong. He was calm under any situation, using his intelligence to help us escape from whatever situation we have gotten ourselves into. If he was hurt, Don would just wave it aside and tended our injuries instead. He was strong for us. He took his pain in, carrying to the burden by himself because he wanted us to breathe and sleep easier.

" Ouch!"

A yelp from Don's room had me snapping out of my meditation and had me leaping over the couch, onto the balcony and straight towards his room. " What happened?" I quickly asked, scanning the room for any intruders or anything that stood between me and my brother.

" Just a paper cut." Don frowned at the cut, where a blossoming red began to drip out. " Nothing serious," he shrugged, quickly sucking on his finger.

But I remembered how Donnie always said that. And despite him this time honestly telling the truth about the paper cut, I couldn't help but worry. I might have nodded my head and left the room without another word, leaving him to his own little world, but my mind remained uneasily. Donnie did so much for us and it seemed like there was nothing we could do for him in return.

I made up my mind as I called to Master Splinter that I was heading topside, grabbing some loose change and trying to remember where the pharmacy was again.

I cannot lift this burden that Don had chosen to carry.

But I could ease the journey for him.


	5. The Best Medicine

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its characters.

**Well, this is the last chapter. Thank you to those who read and left a review. This story wouldn't have survived without you guys. And who else but Donatello himself could conclude this story? Without further ado, here's Donnie!

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**Chapter 5 –**The Best Medicine

**Donatello**

The first thing I realized when I awoke, was that it was warm. The comfortable, snug kind on a winter night when you're most reluctant to get out of bed. I really didn't want to open my eyes, but there were these voices, familiar, soothing voices that begged and coaxed me to awake.

And so, I listened to them.

" _Listen, Donnie, about the training - "_

" _Forget about it."_

" _But - "_

" _I know you're sorry. And you know you're sorry, right?"_

" _Yeah, but - "_

" _So forget about it."_

" … _You're a pest, you know."_

" Come on, Don. Wake up, all right?"

I shifted slightly. I recognized this voice. But strangely, I remembered this voice to be more rough and harsh. Instead, it was soft and pleading. He was worried, I realized. He was scared for me, that I might never wake up and he would be whispering to nothing but an empty shell.

There was a shout of surprise and delight when my hand twitched. I could hear him hold my hand and squeezing back, murmuring encouragement for my ears alone.

Soon, there were other voices shouting and pushing close by, but he told them to be quiet, shoving them away from me.

Almost like a protector.

" _Wha – what happened …?"_

" _It's all right, Donnie, we got ya."_

" _Mikey? How …?"_

" _Just go back to sleep, all right?"_

" He's waking up! He's gonna be all right! Donnie's waking up!"

This happy voice I recognized too. He was a child, forever happy and smiling. He would pounce on my back and beg me endlessly to download the latest games to satisify his undying love for them. I remembered how annoyed I would be, but I would do it anyways.

The other two would sometimes berate and lecture him. Upset that he was too lazy to wake up early for practice. Irritated that he played the radio too loud in the mornings. So it would be my job to tell the others to lay off and not to be so harsh on him. Just give him five minutes to get ready. Give him earphones. There! Problem solved.

Out of the others, I noticed he tended to stick close to me, almost like my shadow sometimes. He came to me if he had something troubling him or if he was just having a bad day. Sometimes, we would sit late at night, just talking and we would fall asleep, all tangled together in my blankets.

What else were younger brothers for?

" _Here, my son. Some tea to calm your headache."_

" _But - but how did you know?"_

" _A father always knows."_

" My son, can you open your eyes for me?"

Now this was one voice I would never forget. There was just something about this voice that screamed father and love. He had taken care of me since I was a child and still has to this day. I wanted to reach out, to feel his warmth, to know that I was safe in his arms.

I remembered hurting my knee and he came for me, gently cleaning it and wrapping it. And once he was done, he blessed it with a kiss. I was laughing and he was smiling and together we walked back home, hand in hand.

Even when I lacked the physical capabilities of the others, he never sternly criticized me for it. Instead, he taught and he trained and he helped. I did my part as well. I wanted to make him proud. And the day when I finally defeated the others, I turned around to see a beaming smile of his face.

That smile of his meant more to me than anything else.

" _Leo, why are you giving me an extra medical kit?"_

" _You never know when you might need it."_

" Don, you're doing great. We're right here with you. Can you hear me?"

The last voice was a mixture of apprehension and joy. He worried too much for his own good sometimes, really. He was our leader, the fearless one who led us into battle and out. He always seemed strained and stressed so often (no wonder he mediated so much).

I wanted to help him. As the oldest, he already has enough things to deal with, without us to worry about. Doesn't he realize we all want to lessen the burden on him? But, he could be stubborn and he would refuse to listen.

So, I had to resort to other measures. I took the job of looking after the others when he couldn't, making sure they were all right. I was the one who made sure that if there were any injuries, I would take care of it. I worked feverishly on my inventions, so they could get us out of any difficulty, so he wouldn't have to torture himself that he had failed.

I wanted to be the one to tell him that he never did.

" _Hey, you guys … thanks."_

I opened my eyes.


End file.
